


Two of a kind

by DwarfOfManyJourneys



Series: League of AUs - Twisted Graves Edition [7]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Blood and Violence, Hurt, M/M, Made For Each Other, Some criminals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6665674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DwarfOfManyJourneys/pseuds/DwarfOfManyJourneys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Graves and Fate got captured.<br/>They are not impressed.</p>
<p>Technically not an AU, just a bit of insanity</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two of a kind

**Author's Note:**

> Most of my works are taking a softer approach on their characters and I kind of wanted to try a one-shot with a different side of them in the spotlight.  
> As usual, I'm not really certain about the result. But I wanted to post again so badly, that I decided to post a few of my "lesser" works. Have fun anyway :)

As he blinked back to consciousness, the first coherent thought was _"He did it again."_

 

It took only seconds to see the error in this thought, as the blurry visions cleared up and his new old partner was chained right in front of him, still knocked out. 

With a swift glance, Graves got a good understanding of their situation. Five, no, seven young man, heads shaved and knifes at their belts whispered loudly at a scorched-marked table, casting nervous glances in their direction. 

So they never planned to take them hostage, he mused. They just went with the flow and now reached a point of no return. Too bad they chose him and Tobias though, because when (not if) they got out, there would be hell to pay. 

 

His partner groaned softly, as he woke up, alarming their captors, who jumped in their chairs and hastily came over. "Listen, old men! Either you give us your money or we cut you up, slice by slice." 

The two con-men blinked before roaring with laughter, causing the youngsters to throw uncertain glances at each other, till one stepped up and landed a punch in TFs stomach. 

The card master wheezed, but chuckled nonetheless. "And why didn't you search us, before bringing us here?" Some of the robbers bristled at that. "We did! Took all your weapons!" 

Twisted Fate gave them an unimpressed look. "And what money could we give ta ya, if ya already took everything?" He was met with silence and a (rather pathetic) punch in the stomach again, sneaking a brief grin to Graves, who worked his muscles to test the strength of his bounds. 

They gave way, though he had to strain and it took longer than he liked. ( _Though, even if they were partners again: Seeing Tobias getting punched still made him laugh a bit. The git deserved it, anyway._ ) He only halted, when a polished blade was teasing his neck. 

"Ooooooh, I want to cut that pretty face of his. Or break a few fingers~ pleeeease?" a maniac voice sing-songed behind him. 

Damn. Of cause, standing in the centre of the room, hands chained above at some bars, he could only count the attackers in front of him. Tobias was the one to see behind his back. (And his own, granted, but working magic was probably **not** a good idea right now.) 

The person behind him slithered through the group and ended up in front of Tobias, who still kept his grin in place. 

 

_After all that terror in their lives, those kids were kind of a joke._

 

A sickly crunch made him look up, taking in the grim set in Twisted Fate's jaw as well as the weird angle of his left index finger. 

"Again, again!" the sicko yelled with childish glee, waving his knife around and tearing Fate's vest across his stomach, eventually ripping it open with unsteady hands. 

Although Graves did like the view of his partner bound and hurt, vulnerable and at another one's mercy, this was wrong: Twisted Fate was his. _**His to hurt, his to break.**_

They had a deal and those kids stomped all over it. Especially that wannabe-maniac, who froze for a moment and whirled around, hopping over to Graves, who looked at him impassively. ( _Though Tobias' look told him he didn't succeed. Well, he did not give a shit about that guy's opinion anyway._ ) 

 

The silvery blade danced across his arms, leaving little drops of blood in its wake. Those fools did not know, who they were messing with, he thought while wetting his lips, glancing over to Fate, who's eyes shone eerily in the shadows. 

The magician raised an eyebrow and grinned sharply, obviously entertained by the knife's work on him, tilting his head to inspect him as one would a piece of art. (And since Graves understood that train of thought all too well himself, he mused, they were equally matched with each other after all.) 

One of the others nervously licked his lips and turned back to Fate. "You won't tell the authority, right?" 

The card master laughed and spit on the ground, putting his full weight on the shackles and let his normally brown eyes take that cyan colour, that gave any living creature shivers. ( _Well, Graves shivered for entirely other reasons, but still._ ) 

"What makes you think there will be something to report, kiddo? You made three fatal mistakes in one round, not even my partner could ever mess up that badly." Graves made a sound of indignation, but the knife was about to carve into his chest and that simply _would not do._

"Well, can't let you live then, right?" All captors had brandished their weapons by now and slowly circled the two bound men, one turning red with anger, one half amused - half wicked. 

 

"This is crappy work, guys. I need a drink right now." Graves stated and just like that snapped his chains, not caring for the screeching maniac as he delivered a swift punch in a face, hearing the sickening crack of a skull and turning around to put his elbow in the next face, only to blink at the stunned man. "Aw, Tobias, could ya stick with ya own targets?" he groaned, as he took two robbers in a chokehold and _squeezed._

His partner had somehow gotten his cards back, the chains above him dangling opened and useless, as he shot one attacker after the other. "None can do, Malcolm. None can do." 

It was one of those nights, Graves decided, as he took the silvery knife and started a bloodbath, joined by his partner, whose cards cut precisely through soft skin and veins alike, leaving the room splattered with blood and gore. His blade sung a song of death and pain, as Tobias’ cards danced a _Danse macabre_ , their work a requiem for the cursed and forsaken. 

 

The last guy was white as a sheet, shaking and close to tears as he begged for his life. "Please, I'm sorry. We didn't know - I mean, I didn't... what? Who are you guys?" 

He stared at them hopelessly, scanning the two middle-aged men before him like one would inspect a puzzle.

" **Mistake one:** _You did not pick your targets with care._ " Fate sauntered over to Graves, who took a stripe of cloth off a body to bandage his cuts, holding out his left hand, which Graves took and without preamble stretched to reset the bones in his finger. Graves took over, as Tobias started to bandage his other arm. 

" **Mistake two:** _You did not stick to the plan._ " Fate snickered next to him, dodging an elbow as he tied off the cloth, both now ganging up on the poor man. 

" **Mistake three:** _Whelps should recognise wolves, when they meet them._ " Their grins would haunt the lone survivor of that night for the rest of his life, as he scrambled away, the image of bloodied knifes and cards burned to his retina. 

 

"Man, that was boring as hell. What happened to the good old times?" Graves grumbled as they made their way to the next shady bar, weaving through the nightly crowd with practise (and a collection of purses, that somehow found their way to their pockets). 

Fate tipped his hat at a beggar, who grinned toothlessly, sniping a coin right in his grubby hands. " _Guess we have to remind them, partner._ " 


End file.
